


A Firm Grip On My Jaw With The Soft Touch Of Your Blade

by bellam_w



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Fluff, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Mickey looking after Ian, Shaving, Very slight Dom/Sub undertones, they live alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 09:52:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12296691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellam_w/pseuds/bellam_w
Summary: He knew Mickey wouldn’t hurt him, he knew it was just playful banter between the two of them. If he was being truthful, he’d never felt safer than he did around Mickey. Whether it was Mickey holding him in his arms in bed or Mickey straddling his hips with a razor to his throat, to Ian, Mickey was safety.





	A Firm Grip On My Jaw With The Soft Touch Of Your Blade

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for such positive comments on my first post. You've asked for more, so here I am... delivering more. I hope you enjoy this fluffy piece!

Ian was stood in front of the mirror, fresh from the shower and teeth brushed. “Occupied”, he shouted when the handle jiggled. He rolled his eyes fondly when he watched Mickey walk in. “I said occupied”, Ian chided with no malice.

“Since when has that stopped me?”, Mickey smirked, pushing the door too and walking over to Ian. He wrapped his arms around Ian’s waist, holding his slightly damp skin against his front. “You showered without me”, he huffed.

“You kept telling me I smell”, Ian retaliated, mock horror all over his face.

“I also told you that you need to shave”, Mickey stated matter-of-factly, eying the scruff on Ian’s face, “You look homeless and unloved”, he observed.

“Gee, thanks”, Ian quipped, “I was getting around to it when you barged your fat ass in here for no damn good reason”, he accused, leaning back into Mickey’s hold.

“Come to bed”, Mickey murmured into his shoulder. “It’s cold”, he complained, resting his head on Ian’s shoulder, breathing into his neck.

“Get another blanket”, Ian tutted, reaching for the shaving foam.

“Can I do it?”, Mickey asked quietly. Ian looked at him through the mirror, “Your face”, he whispered, reaching to place a hand over the one Ian had rested on the foam. “I’ll be gentle”, he teased, leaning forwards to nibble on an earlobe.

“You cut me and I’ll cut you”, Ian warned, eyes bright and happy, “I sleep next to you, remember”, he grinned.

Mickey made Ian sit on the toilet seat after he’d wet his face with warm water. He grabbed the can of foam, squirting some into his hands before rubbing it onto Ian’s face carefully, teasing him for looking like a “Hot, ginger Santa” with a giggle that he would deny if ever asked about it. He then reached over and flicked the tap on, filling the sink with warm water.

Once the sink was full and he’d grabbed and wetted the razor, Mickey straddled Ian’s hips. Ian’s hands went straight to Mickey’s body, looping around his back protectively. “Stay still”, Mickey instructed quietly, his mouth close to Ian’s face, “I don’t want to hurt you”.

The small bathroom was silent, all that could be heard was the dragging of the razor and the cutting of hair. Mickey pulled on Ian’s skin carefully, not wanting to pull too hard or risk cutting him when he dragged the razor over the soft skin. “Stop fidgeting”, Mickey admonished, tongue peeking out over his lip in concentration.

“Can’t help it”, Ian muttered as best as he could without moving his mouth and face too much. “You look cute when you concentrate”, he smiled. Mickey looked into Ian’s eyes, blushing at the loved-up look that was flooding the green. It was the same loved-up look he had when he first dragged Mickey through the front door to their apartment as soon as the deposit had gone through.

“Shush”, Mickey silenced him, going back to work. He dragged the razor down to his jaw, wiping the foam that gathered there away with his thumb and then onto a towel. Mickey dipped down to his neck, shaving the scruff that had gathered there. The razor bounced over the throbbing vein in Ian’s neck. “This getting you goin’, Gallagher?”, Mickey teased.

“Or I’m just shit scared of you with a blade at my throat”, Ian mumbled.

“I ain't gonna hurt you, Gallagher”, Mickey smiled, stroking a thumb along a hair-free and foam-free patch of skin. “Now sit still, I’m almost done”, he demanded, placing the razor back onto Ian’s throat once he’d leaned over and tapped it into the sink.

Ian felt his eyes flutter closed at the sensation of Mickey’s gentle fingers running over his warm skin. He knew Mickey wouldn’t hurt him, he knew it was just playful banter between the two of them. If he was being truthful, he’d never felt safer than he did around Mickey. Whether it was Mickey holding him in his arms in bed or Mickey straddling his hips with a razor to his throat, to Ian, Mickey was safety.

A gentle kiss to his nose followed by one to his forehead caused Ian to open his eyes sleepily. “Let me wipe this off and then we can get into bed”, Mickey promised. He grabbed the facecloth from the sink, running clean water on it and wringing it out before bringing it over to Ian’s face. He swiped the cloth along his jaw and bottom of his throat, where most of the excess foam had gathered, before wiping away the small lines. “Where’s that shit you always put on that smells good?”, Mickey asked, throwing the cloth back to the sink.

“The balm? Top shelf in the mirror”, Ian muttered, already half asleep.

Mickey was quiet in getting the small tube, not wanting to disturb the sleepy silence that had fallen over the two of them. Ian nodded when he held it up, muttering, “Not too much or it won’t soak in”, as Mickey straddled Ian’s hips again.

The balm was silky as Mickey ran his fingers over Ian’s face, the smell instantly bringing a smile to his face as he worked it through. He rubbed it in until it left a soft sheen on Ian’s face, not wanting it to get tacky from being overworked. Mickey leaned forwards, wrapping his arms around Ian’s neck and resting his head just under Ian’s ear, breathing in the musky smell of the balm. “C’mon, sleepyhead. Bedtime”, Mickey murmured.

Once they made it to the bedroom, Ian slowly pulled some flannel pants on as he walked over to the bed that Mickey was already in. “This is mine”, Ian commented as he rolled into Mickey’s side.

“You ain't complainin’”, Mickey muttered, running the back of his finger over the smooth skin on Ian’s jaw and cheek. “You look pretty when you’ve shaved”, he smiled, pressing a kiss to Ian’s chin.

The younger boy just wrapped his arms around Mickey’s back, pulling him into him. “Thanks for not slicing my face”, he whispered. “And you always look pretty”, he muttered into Mickey’s hair sleepily. “Always have, always will”

“Shut up and go to sleep, you fuckin’ sap”


End file.
